The Orchird
by thegoodgirldoll
Summary: The Orchird was strongly attached to Arthur&Ginny's relationship.Now,years later,Ginny retells her life and how their relationship became what it is now,and what happened in between...What's it like to lose, when you can't gain? The Orchird knows.
1. The Orchird

I was five years old today...My Mummy threw me a party with some of my friends down the lane....But it didn't matter to me, because Daddy wasn't there...Mummy said he had to work, and I was okay with that...for the most part. I understood he had to work, but more so, I understood the hurt I felt...And after the party I couldn't help but run out to the orchird in the way back of our little Burrow, that was so close to me and my Daddy's hearts....So, that's where our story begins...in the orchird.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

My feet hit the lush ground, squishing berries and mud. It had just rained and the orchired looked absolutely ravishing. I remember the day as though it had been yesterday...It had been my fifth birthday, and as I said, after my party I had run to the orchird my father and I loved.. for support. I had hoped and prayed he would have gotten off work early, like he promised he'd try..But it had been to no avail. So, I found myself now humming as I twirled around in the orchird, in the pale blue sundress Daddy had given me for my birthday earlier this morning. Small rain drops hit my face as I stared upward into the glowing yellow sun, hazed by rain clouds. I sighed in happiness, the orchird always gave me so much contentment. Whenever I was angry, or sad, or worried, I would go to the orchird...The only difference was usually it was with my Dad.

I shook the sadness quickly away..it was 5 O'clock, and he would be home tonight..Besides, Mother also made sure us children were in the house, cleaned up, pajamas on, nightlights off, and eyes shut by 7 O'clock...Even on birthdays! And, yes, even when Daddy was at work..._On your birthday! _I hummed some more, walking along the rocks and mud and praying my Dad would be home soon. I was hoping against all hope he would at least be home to read me a goodnight story on my birthday! Usually, recently, he was home at decent times...The Potters had been killed for awhile back when I had been five, and Voldemort was just gone. Dad was usually home at 6:30, 7ish, or 8...Not normally later, but sometimes.

I had a feeling tonight was a late night for him.

"Ginny!" I heard my mother yell not soon after I had come out of my thoughts. I turned to the house to see her waving me over and I ran back through the flowers, mud, sticks and berries, squashing them with my feet that were so small usually, but compared to the berries were huge! Like the size of my father's hand when he grasped my favorite bedtime book to read me a story out of it. Usually it was Bibbity Rabbit, Cinderella, or another muggle fairy tale he had introduced me to... Though, I had no time to think on bedtime stories right now, I had to go get a shower, get some pajamas on, and rest in bed, eyes wide open until light's out, hoping my father would be home for my fifth birthday....even if it was only the end of it, he was worth the wait, and I realized, after Mum had told me countless times, that work was more important sometimes. I never really understood why it was more important, just that, well, Mum said it was and Mum never lied to me so, I didn;t second guess it...Even though I chose to believe Dad loved us more than his muggle toys. Besides, he wouldn't leave me on my fifth birthday! That had been a milestone for me and, he'd said he'd be there...He would not have lied, must've just gotten held up. Even if he wasn't home tonight though, he'd be home tomorrow, when I woke up, sitting at the breakfast table, nibbling at bacon and kippers, an apology ready to roll off of his lips and a smile already on them, asking me if I was ready to go tonight...meaning tomorrow night...for the father daughter dance at our muggle school...Daddy wouldn't miss that especially, even if he did miss my party!

I walked up to my mother, panting and she smiled sadly, brushing my sweaty, or, wet hair from my face.

"Ginny, I'm afraid I have some bad news.."

"What is it, Mum?" I had asked. Though it sounds odd, at the time I'd thought nothing of this 'bad news' as being related to my father, but when my mother had uttered her next words my heart had sunk considerably.

"Your father won't be home until next weekend...he just owled me, and said they sent him out to guard at Azkaban for a few days....I'm sorry honey...But he wrote a whole different letter to you and I'm sure he'd want you to read it when your all settled in bed and only thinking about him so, come on, let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, then you can read your note and if it's not too late you can send one back, hmm?" She was trying to be nice, and I realize now with my own children that it was a cover-up to stop tears and such, because she knew I was upset..But what she didn't know was I didn't do tears, or tantrums much often...or depression, even as a kid...and young adult...But still, I understood, she had been trying to help me understand kindly that I wouldn't see my father until next weekend, meaning he'd missed my party, would miss our dance, and whatever else happened in my life that week. I had friends back then and their parents weren't together or were angry at each other, and I realized then, that how I felt for one day, was how they felt everyday...And it was hard for a once five year old like me to grasp.


	2. He Really Thought He Hurt Me

I pick up our story again on that day, but later that night. I remember lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling when I was supposed to be asleep, and just thinking...Thinking the childish, care-free thoughts I had back then, and soaking in the fact that my father wasn't going to be home until the weekend...I had read my letter, but to my dissappointment my Mum had told me I had to write Dad in the morning. I had been quite upset, seeing as I wanted him to get my letter as soon as possible and I'd wanted him even more so to fall asleep with it. I had sighed, and cuddled with the bear my Dad and Mum had given me when I was just a newborn, and closed my eyes...No because I was tired, but because I was thinking...hard...on seeing my father, and on the morning to come quick, so I could write to him. I held my bear tighter and fell into sleep as I held back my emotions. I did not cry, even as a child, and adult now, but I was battling being upset and anxious, and I needed time to handle it in my own way.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next morning as I walked down to breakfast, there had been an owl waiting for me. It was Errol, with a large rolled up piece of parchment, and a package. I smiled at my Mum hesitantly and she nodded slightly to the package as she kissed me goodmorning and went back to making breakfast. When she heard me ripping off the paper though, however, she turned quickly and watched as I peeled it off to reveal a box. I had furrowed my eyebrows, and turned to the letter, knowing Daddy always said it was more fullfilling to read the letter before opening the present...That's what he always did anyway. I opened it up and let it fall open. It was a big piece of paper, but only filled a little more than half of the way. It was a note from my father, penned in his unruly, wigglish, practically un-able-to-read handwriting.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I'm so sorry I miss your birthday party, love...It was not my doing I promise you, and I will be home as soon as I can be. I'm sorry about our dance too, but there's nothing I can really do until I get back home. I hope you aren't too angry, or hurt, love...Because I miss you and you know I would much rather be with you than this cold and dodgy place! I hope you did have a good birthday though, princess, and the gift I sent with Errol is something I found along the rocks during my guard here at Azkaban. It's a special jewel and I found it fit for you to own it. I hope you like it as much as I did...Even though it's not something you can carry with you, like your teddy bear, or this letter, it's something I thought would be special for you and to give to you as an "I'm sorry." I love you GinGin, and hopefully I will be home soon, so that my absence won't be too recognized. _

_I love you, and miss you..._

_Daddy._

I had sighed, turning to my mother and asking her quickly, "Mum, what does absence mean?"

"It means someone not being here with you...someone not being present...He means he hopes you aren't hurting too much without him being here." I had turned my slight smile into a menacing upturn of the lips and replied under my breath that his absence was indeed recognized, and even though I know my Mum had heard me, she had let it slide....

Then, I had turned to open the gift, and it revealed a beautiful pink diamondish looking rock. The rock had become quite special to me the second after opening it...seeing as my father had found it, and dug it out for me, and I had taken it up to my room happily, putting it on my most prized possesions shelf, where it had stayed until it moved the day I did, and found its way into my daughter's room, on her top most shelf.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

(5YEARSOLD GINNY POV.)

_Dear diary,_

_it is friday the 7th and daddy shuld be home soon...i hope. he said he wuld be so i hope he will be soon...i miss him a lot and its making me sad! the boys don make it aney butter and i hope daddy will be home soon bacus hes the only one of the boys that isnt mean to me....accept bill kind of....anyway, bye!!!_

I closed the diary and sighed, resting my cheek on my hand..

"Dadd-eeeee...When will you be home!?" I groaned, throwing my head into my hands.

(END OF POV, BACK TO OLDER GINNY TELLING STORY)

I remember myself sitting there, waiting for my father to return. Even on the day he said he would be back, he had been an hour late...But I remember when he came back like it was just ten minutes ago...And I don't remember ever feeling happier. I had been playing with my dolls, making them talk and join a tea party, when all to soon there had been a knock at my door. It had taken me awhile to stand, because I had been surrounded by stuffed animals, dolls, and barbies, but I managed and had walked to my door. Putting my ear to it I asked muffled: "Who is it!?" My Mum had replied it was her and I had shrugged, walking back to my dolls, throwing some on the bed and plopping into the covers. I covered myself with a blanket my Mum had woven for me and I yelled back "Come in now!!!" I heard my door open, and chuckling, but I assumed it was my mother as she had said....But then I felt strong arms around me, that couldn't possibly have been my mothers, and then someone taking my cover up, but picking me up, swinging me once, and falling on the ground with me in the midst of all of my barbies. I turned to see who my captor was and my face broke into a grin, happy tears running down my cheeks as my mother smiled at us from the doorway. My father was laying on his back, and he picked me up quickly, holding me above him, then lowering me a bit so he could kiss me quickly.

"Hello, Ginny." he whispered and I remember laughing, and falling into his embrace, lying there and talking about his work, my last week, and my dolls...he sat there the rest of the night and had played dolls with me...and he made up for missing my bedtime stories by reading me two instead of the usual one, or half of one. I remember falling into bed, after a quick round of butterfly kisses, then falling asleep with him next to me, stroking my hair. Before I totally fell into darkness I remember him whispering: "Finally, a night you can sleep and not lie and tell your mother you did when really you were worried...I'm sorry for putting you through that princess."

He hadn't known I was awake, but I remembered that for the rest of my life, like a sore thumb sticking out in my mind...He had said sorry for something that wasn;t his fault...But I didn't understand until years later why....and that it was because of his profound love for me...and that he had honestly believed, he had hurt me.


	3. My Worst Christmas

My 5th birthday was the first and last birthday my father ever missed. Ever since that and before that, he was there for every actual birthday and every party. That's one thing I could never talk ill about involving my father: The fact that he was always there. Sure, he had to work to support us, and was running errands for the ministry alot if not actually on shift, but he was there whenever it counted. When I was sick, he took off. When I was sad, he took off. When there were other just small special occasions, he took off..And, of course, for the bigger things. He never missed a birthday, Easter, Thanksgiving, Halloween....And as far as Christmas, there's only one I remember....It was my worst Christmas, _ever. _

_December 18th, 1995_

"Ginny, did you do your potions homework?" I rolled my eyes and turned to look at my boyfriend.

"Yes, Dean, but you AREN'T getting it!" Dean let out an exasperated groan and plopped down on the couch next to me, even though I was on the floor. My notebooks, schoolbooks, paper, and quills covered the floor in front of me and all around me, and I was too busy to even think straight enough to give Dean a proper, "hello." All I had on my mind was finishing this work, and then getting home for my Christmas holidays.

After awhile Dean left to go upstairs to bed, and that was around 11 O'clock, going on midnight. I had stayed downstairs when everyone left or fell asleep, and continued working, set on finishing all of this before term ended. But, at around 2:11 A.M., my plans changed drastically. Minerva Mcgonagall came bursting through the common room door and breathed heavily in and out, her braided hair resting on one side of her neck, her wand held high and illuminating the room.

"Ginny, I'm glad you're awake...You must come with me to Professor Dumbledore's office." I had sighed and set my notebook and quill down....One more sentence and I was done with Transfiguration! I frowned.

"Professor, surely this can wait until the morning? Please? If it's about me punching Pansy, it really was just self-defence I-" Minerva stared at her, her eyes glazed over with un-shed tears and her face looked crest-fallen.

"It's about your father." She all but whispered.

* * *

I only remembered some of what happened, seeing as my mind had been so numb....I did remember trying to listen to Harry explain his dream...I remember later asking him in detail...I never was one for crying, but I had gone to my room, locked the door, performed a silencing charm, and sobbed. I remembered waiting in pure agony with my brothers, Harry, and Sirius. I remembered my mother coming home and tleling us my Daddy was alive....

I remember when I saw him for the first time since term began, a few hours after everything had taken place....He seemed dead....His physical appearance and his personality. He looked grey, sad, and worn-out. His face was pained but he tried to keep up a good front for us....I had always been able to see through him though, and him with me also. As for personality, he was just bland...The man laying there wasn't my father, at all. He was helpless, un-humorous, in pain, and un-happy....I could tell.

I suppose the reason this hit me so hard is because I was so used to a different father, one who was always stronger than me even though he sometimes acted like a child....I guess it felt odd to actually feel like the child for once....He always held me up to such a high standard, and told me everything, (even the stuff Mum didn't want me to know,) and he always valued my opinion. It hurt so much because now I had to be the kid...I was helpless.....I could do nothing.

**A\n: Wow, God works so amazingly. I just heard a sermon yesterday about realizing we can't do anything without God, and that we really trust Him when we realize we are HELPLESS. I've learned that alot recently....So guys, come before God HELPLESS today, and He will help you and give you rest. **

**Please leave a review! **

**God bless and love you guys!**

**Sarah**


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